Stained
by Kodabear18
Summary: When Jace finally thinks that his life will turn back to normal, he has another thing coming. He is thrown into battles of darkness and evils unknown to mankind, but will he prevail with the help of a red-haired con-artist?
1. Prologue

**Warning:**** This is very dark and some may not like it. Read at your own risk.**

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><p>The thick liquid ran onto the stone floor from his fingers. A faint dripping sound echoed off of the walls of the underground cavern, creating a haunting atmosphere around him. He removed his gaze from the still form lying in front of him, down to inspect his own appearance.<p>

Crimson.

Crimson was everywhere; from the hem of his warn-in leather jacket, to the collar of the stolen janitor's uniform. His hands were coated in the thick substance, his forearms sticking to the thin uniform uncomfortably. He sighed in annoyance and wiped his hands on his navy-blue dress pants, also stolen. The fabric quickly helped clear off his hands, enabling him to start cleaning up his mess. He squatted down by the still form, the thick liquid stick seeping out of the large gouge in its neck, and picked up the sparkling-silver knife from where he had dropped it earlier.

The light from the oil-lamp illuminated the relatively large cavern with yellow light, casting shadows over his face. He inspected the sharp piece of silver with a professional preciseness, showing anyone who looked on that he had done this many times before. The manmade light made it clear to him that the thick liquid wasn't only all over him, but all over his most prized possession too. The blade appeared to be dark, almost black, but when he ran his index finger over its flat edge, the shining silver shone through like a beacon.

He straightened up again, wiping the blade off on his already-ruined pants and concealing it in the hidden compartment in his warn jacket, before nudging the still form with the toe of his boot. The form rolled slightly and revealing blank, once lively, brown eyes. Terror shone in the depths of them, causing him to sigh again and shake his head.

"I told you what would happen if you didn't come quietly, Sweetheart. This's what you brought upon yourself; I warned you." his smooth voice whispered into the air, secret amusement lingering in his tone. He reached down and took ahold of both of the still form's arms, before dragging her form over to the antique elevator shaft.

The large, rusted-metal box sat loyally, ready to be used. He dragged her form into the cage of the elevator, tossing her in the far corner when he himself was inside. Her dark-brown braids were matted with the thick liquid and her mouth was hung open in a silent scream. He shook his head sadly down at her form, before exiting the metal cage and walking back into the cavern.

The oil-lamp hung from a hook in the middle of the cavern, a thick trail of the crimson liquid led to the elevator from a large puddle right beneath the lamp, a metal lockbox sat about five feet away from the puddle, and footprints of the thick liquid were scattered around the stone room. He made his way over to the lockbox, stashed it away in his jacket, muffled the flame on the oil-lamp, and then started back towards the elevator, smirking to himself at the quickness of the job.

He really didn't have to do much, this time.

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><p>The woman was an easy target, never watching her back and too naïve with whom she put her trust in. She had just simply agreed to come with him when her car broke down; after he had removed some of the plugs in the engine, of course. He had conveniently been on the same road as her when her car started having trouble, so he offered her a ride to her boss' house; where she was expected to meet him ten minutes later. He had smiled kindly and allowed her to take refuge in his vehicle as he drove, charming her expertly. The only problem with her savior was that he knew exactly how this was going to play out.<p>

First, he had started towards the location that she had told him she was supposed to be at. Then, when they were about half way there, he had turned onto a deserted road. The road led to the abandoned mine on the outskirts of town, where he had been staying and plotting for the past week. He had stopped the car right at the entrance to the underground elevator shaft that led to the storage room, where the miners used to stockpile explosives. Of course, the deadly weapons were taken with the men when the mine was abandoned, so the cavern proved to be the perfect hideout.

He had turned towards her and whispered quietly, "If you come quietly, I won't have to kill you."

Of course, that was a complete and total lie, but he was giving her an option to make his job easier. Her eyes had gone wide and panic had shone brightly through her brown orbs. She had shaken her head and tried to get out of the old, beat-up, rental car, but he had manually locked the doors on her side so that only someone could open them from the outside. He had sighed tiredly and gotten out of the car, walked over to her side, pulled open the door, and then proceeded to carry her struggling form into the elevator's cage.

She had tried to scream for help, but they were miles away from civilization and were also on their way to be three stories underground. He had looked at her and taken ahold of her many braids, before ramming her skull into the side of the metal cage. She had almost immediately gone limp and he caught her easily, swinging her barely-conscious form up into his arms.

When the cage landed at the bottom of the cavern, he had carried her out of it and dropped her into the middle of the vast room. She had watched him with heavy, but confused and terrified, eyes, as he turned on the oil-lamp and paced in front of her. She had been entirely disoriented from the blow to her head, so her vision of him was blurry as he busied himself around the empty cavern.

He made sure that the elevator was ready to go up for his escape, before turning towards the woman fully. A wicked grin graced his lips and a malicious twinkled hinted in his eyes, making him appear to be of demonic origin. He squatted down to eye level with the confused woman and hummed under his breath.

"Now, what did I tell you about being quiet? Look what you made me do, Sweetheart. I disfigured your pretty little skull." He whined teasingly, petting her hair mockingly. Her braids were starting to get matted to her forehead with blood, which was seeping out at dangerous levels from the crown of her head. She stared up at him dumbly, trying to get her lips to function right desperately.

"What do you want from me?" she managed to mumble out while blinking harshly up at him, trying to clear her vision slightly. He just laughed, a deep and threatening sound, before reaching into his jacket and pulling out his blade.

The knife was made of solid silver, obsidian inlayed into the handle, sharpened to a wicked point, and had ancient symbols carved into the blade itself. He twirled the blade idly around in his hand and leaned over the woman, pressing its tip into the soft skin of her neck.

"Listen up, Sweetheart. I'll ask the questions, and then you're going to answer them for me. Deal?" he inquired rhetorically, looking into her eyes with a snake-like sharpness. She nodded numbly, being sure not to press the blade further into her skin, and a single tear slid down her cheek, mixing in with her blood and leaving a small trail in its wake. He grinned, satisfied, and tilted his head to the side slightly.

"Now, what's your name, Sweetheart?" he asked, picking up one of her blood-soaked braids with idle interest. She swallowed thickly and sniffled.

"M-Maia Roberts." She squeaked out, looking up at him through her tears and blurred mind. He nodded slightly and bit his lip in thought.

"Alright, that's exactly the kind of cooperation that I was asking for." He said to himself, before pulling back slightly and removing the blade from her neck. "Maia Roberts, huh? Well, you've gotten yourself into quite a mess here. Haven't you, Sweetheart?" he asked, beginning to twirl the blade around his fingers once more. She kept her eyes trained on the deathly sharp weapon throughout his speech, but allowed them to flicker up to his shadowed face quickly when he finished talking. Her eyebrows pulled together and she sniffled again, more tears streaking down her caramel-colored cheeks, before speaking.

"W-what mess?" she inquired confusedly. He chuckled darkly and stopped twirling his blade momentarily, only to continue after a minute of looking deep in thought.

"Why, this one of course. Did you even check to see what you were delivering to your boss tonight, Sweetheart?" he asked slowly, as if she was a small child. Her lips parted slightly and she reached into her coat quickly, pulling out a relatively large box.

It was completely made of silver, much like his blade, and had a secure lock on the front of it. The box itself was about the size of large jewelry-box, about half the size of a regular shoe-box. Small, intricate designs were carved into the surface of the box and on the very top of the box; a small group of herons were sketched into the metal.

Her eyes were wary as she handed the box over to him, thinking that if she cooperated that he wouldn't kill her. He knew exactly what she thought though, so he decided to play along. He gently took the box from her hands, with a gentleness that normally wouldn't be possessed by someone with such harsh capabilities, and a small smile graced his lips. He ran his thumb over the metal gingerly, as if remembering a long lost memory, before setting it down to the side of the scene and turning back towards the woman. She watched with wide eyes as he began to close the distance between them and as his blade neared her body.

"What are you doing?! I gave you the box?! What more could you want? Let me go!" she asked, her tone sounding as terrified as her featured portrayed. He clucked mockingly and tilted his head to the side, as if observing a foreign animal.

"Why would do that? You've already seen the box, so you'll eventually have to be taken care of. Why not now?" And with that, he lunged for her; pulling her back towards him by her ankle when she tried to scoot out of his reach.

The dagger plunged into her neck, slicing through the tender flesh and severing her jugular artery. The woman's, Maia's, body twitched and thrashed against his, but he never let up on his grip. Her eyes looked into his with terror and her mouth worked with a silent question.

_Why?_

Everybody asked that, and everybody got one answer from him.

"I'm doing you a favor. Had you gotten one of my coworkers, you would be burned alive. Lucky for you, I'll put you out of your misery first, Sweetheart. Don't worry. Just let go." He said calmly, his voice quieter and more soothing than before. Her eyes stared into his for a moment, before her entire body went limp and blankness showed through her irises. He sighed and stood up from his position on the cold stone floor, letting her body roll onto its side by gravity. The knife dropped out of his hand and he gazed down at her crumpled figure, once again regretting his choice of carrier.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, just like he always did after a job. Though, nothing could ever fix what was done; especially when he continued to repeat the same mistakes _over_ and _over_ again.

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><p>The moonlight reflected off of the beat up rental-car's windshield. He dragged her body out of the elevator and towards the old car, where she would remain until it went up in flames later that night. He dumped her body into the trunk unceremoniously, before making his way around the vehicle to the driver's side. Once he was situated in his seat, he started the car and drove along the dirt road until he reached the safe-zone.<p>

The safe-zone was basically a spot where he could burn the evidence without civilization being alerted. There, he had already dug up a large hole in the ground and had his supplies already lined up.

When he got there, he got out of the car, made sure that he had his knife and the box tucked safely into his jacket, and moved around to the back of the old vehicle. There he stripped off his jacket, stripped out of the janitor's uniform that he had stolen earlier that day in order to shadow the woman, replaced his stolen clothes with the pair of black jeans and T-shirt that were packed into his suitcase in the trunk of the car with the woman's body, and also replaced his jacket. The warn leather always comforted him when he was doing a job.

He rechecked his belonging and the box to make sure that they were with him again, before slamming the trunk closed and dropping his suitcase to the ground. He placed both of his hands on the back of the car and started to push the piece of scrap-metal into the large pit that he dug up in advance. The car rolled into the pit easily enough, containing Maia's body and the bloody janitor's uniform inside of it.

When the car was completely inside of the large pit in the earth, he walked over to the side of the pit. He had come to the pit earlier that day and placed supplies for later by it. Gasoline and matches were piled up on top of a lone rock at the side of the pit, just waiting to be used.

He crouched down to pick up the gasoline first and, with the help of the moonlight, he started pouring the entire gallon into the pit and on top of the car. After he finished with that, he went on to strike a match and throw it into the pit.

Fire immediately blazed up in the pit and the car started to burn, along with the rest of the evidence. A faint crack of thunder could be heard in the distance, so he knew that he time it exactly right. When the car finally demolished into nothingness, the rain would muffle the fire slightly; making it easier for him to pile dirt on top of the pit to hide all evidence. At the rate he was going at, he would be out of tow by sunrise.

Hours later, as he watched the rain pour down onto the still-ablaze fire, he smiled slightly to himself. Now that he had the box, he could finally return home and get out of the mess that he created in the first place. When he lost the box, his father forced him to find it. So, like any other loyal son would've, he did. He started getting involved into his father's business and started taking on jobs.

Now that he had the box back though, he could finally go back home to his mother and father. He could have a normal life, finally.

And as his golden eyes were trained intently on the night sky, all that he could think about was his future. A future with no more violence. A future with a real job and maybe even a family. A normal life, where he could finally forget about the past year; a year that no seventeen-year-old should ever have to go through.

No more bloodshed.

No more guilt eating him away to the core because of all the terrible things that he had done.

No more disappointed glares from his father.

No more sadness.

Little did he know though, that what he would find in that box would change his entire life. Forever.

Little did he know that bloodshed would follow him for many years to come.

_If only he had known…_

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><p><strong>So, how'd you like it? Was it good? Bad? Absolutely terrible and now you want to gouge your eyes out with a spork? <strong>_**Yes, I did just say spork…**_

**That's the beginning of a new story. I just got really bored and this popped up in my overly morbid mind, so I decided to post it. :D**

**Tell me your thoughts and if you think that I should continue writing this. :}**

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	2. Chapter 1

_Two years later…_

Jace ran out of the old farmhouse in panic, the leather messenger-bag strapped securely to his shoulder. The air was crisp and hit him in the face as he sprinted across the yard, awaking him to his full extent. The messenger-bag thumped against his side as he made his getaway, brushing leather to leather with his warn jacket. The moon shone down on the landscape like a searchlight and lit the dirt road up with a blue hued glow. Jace didn't even look behind him once as he made his way down the road, needing to get to the old, beat-up truck that he parked around a mile away before he started the job.

Jace was on a mission. A mission to find, and kill, whoever had been associated with the silver box that was presently nestled inside of the large leather bag at his side. Today's victim just happened to be Luke Garroway, his father's right-hand-man as of two years ago. Jace never returned to his father because of the contents of the silver box, he couldn't. His father had forced him to go into 'the family business', or basically to become a murderer, and it had all been for nothing.

The box had been full to the brim with family rings. There were around eighteen of them, all solid gold or silver and neatly arranged into the silver box like a jewelry-store clerk had done it. Three rows of six rings had winked up at him when he finally was able to open the box on the bus back to New York, expecting something of actual value. He was under the impression that he had lost his father's lifetime's worth of work, or something substantial like that; not a heavy box full of family rings.

When he finally reached the old truck, panting slightly, he opened the driver's door and climbed inside stealthily. After setting the leather bag down in the passenger's seat, he turned on the ignition and started driving the truck down the dirt road; never turning on the headlights in fear of attracting bystanders. He couldn't' have that, especially because Luke Garroway's body was still lying in his bed bloody. If one of the few people who lived by Luke got suspicious, he would have a lot more than just one body to take care of. He didn't even have to remove Luke's body from his house, because he wanted his father to find his corpse.

_Revenge is a spiteful thing when you have a substantial reason for it_, he thought to himself as he maneuvered the truck along the abandoned dirt road. Snow begun to fall lightly from the sky, proving his suspicions correct about the early winter that year. It was only November, so the snow was going to completely mess up his mission if he didn't hurry along with his plan and finish what his father started three years ago.

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><p>His father already knew what his 'little boy' was up to. Jace had made it pretty clear that he was out for blood when his father's assistant got delivered to his house in a body-bag, with a neatly written letter taped to her forehead. The note had said,<p>

'_Do you see what you turned me into? This is all on you, Father. All on you._

_P.S._

_How's Mom?'_

His father had immediately upgraded his security and had put out a reward to every police-station in the country for Jace to be convicted. That was three weeks after he had retrieved the box, so it was pretty clear, since it was roughly around two years later, that the government had no idea how to catch him. He was, after all, trained by the CIA's best ex-agent when his father forced him to go into the 'family business'. The ex-agent's name was Michael Wayland. Michael had harsh teaching techniques when it came to the field, but he was otherwise just like Jace had always imagined his own father to be; kind and patient. Not deceitful and cruel. Jace was heartbroken when his father had Michael executed for standing up for Jace, when his father had punished him for losing the silver box.

That was at the end of his seventeenth birthday, also the day that he was sent out into the world to become a murderer and to retrieve the precious item.

Jace's face had been all over the news at one point in the last year, claiming that he had stolen one of the rarest items known to mankind from the owner of half of New York, but he had evaded the public's eye skillfully until his features were taken off of the media. He was now officially a wanted criminal, and if he ever happened to get caught during one of his many 'jobs', he would most likely end up being handed straight back to his father. If that ever happened, Jace would rather kill himself than be forced to endure the torture that he knew his father was capable of. His back could testify to that, permanently scarred with whip-marks.

Jace's father, Stephen Herondale, could be classified as one of the most horrific men on the planet. When Jace was just a little boy, he would sit at the top of the stairs in the large, over-sized mansion that he called home and listen to the desperate cries of his father's enemies coming from the basement. His father had his own personal dungeon in the basement of their home, where he could inflict countless hours of cruelty to those who even dared to come in his path. Jace once tried to see what was in the basement, out of pure curiosity, but only ended up being whipped within an inch of his life by the monstrosity that he called 'Dad'.

Now, at the age of nineteen, Jace was being hunted down for the various murders of his father's coworkers and for apparently 'stealing' the silver box. That is what Stephen Herondale had told the police when he first put out the search-warrant.

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><p>Blinking himself out of his thoughts, Jace turned back onto the main road and switched on his headlights. He ran a hand through his hair, golden wisps wrapping themselves around his fingers as he went, and blew out a slow breath, before turning on the radio. He was trying to distract himself from the dark thoughts that seemed to capture his attention every time that he went on a 'job'. They always tried to consume him and he would have to either drink heavily, or start tracking down his next 'job'; every time.<p>

The radio blasted out a calming tune, _Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin,_ and he almost immediately felt his stiffened muscles start to relax. He turned up the volume dial slightly and let out a raged breath, extremely relieved that he wouldn't have to drink himself into unconsciousness that night.

That's usually how his days went; he would complete a 'job', escape the crime-scene before the authorities arrived, and then he would either end up drinking himself into oblivion in a remote motel-room, or he would mope around in his jumbled mess of a mind for hours until the sun rose and he was able to move on to the next city. He had traveled all over America in the past two years, stopping in some small towns along the way to rid the world of his father's work associates, and then moving on to the next 'job' that he found.

His life had become a nightmare; royally and truly. The only problem with this nightmare though, is that he would never wake up from it. He had become accustomed to his pathetic way of life over the past two years and he planned to finish destroying his father, before finally ending his torment. He looked forward to the day that he no longer walked the earth, as sad and depressing as it was.

Jace pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, before taking a long drag and blowing out the smoke slowly. He focused on the lyrics of the familiar song and trained his broken eyes on the road in front of him steadily. The rumbles and bumps under the truck's tires helped keep him out of the memories that seemed to haunt him successfully. He sighed and took another drag of his cigarette, humming along to the soothing music faintly.

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><p>The motel appeared to be run down into the dirt, as Jace parked the truck in front of his room's door. He quickly gathered the messenger-bag, got out of the truck, and made his way up to the filthy-looking, used-to-be-yellow, door that led to his room. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, before entering the musty room and dead-bolting the door once more. He even placed the chain on for good measure. After all, he couldn't have anyone walking in on him while he was in his blood-soaked clothing.<p>

He made a bee-line straight into the bathroom after he unbuckled his weapons-belt from around his hips, quickly stripping out of the sticky articles of clothing and hopping into the shower directly afterwards. He scrubbed his skin raw of the remaining blood and leaned his head against the cool tile, desperately trying to clear his thoughts of earlier that evening. To no avail though, they assaulted him anyway…

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><p><em>Jace stopped the truck about a mile away from the antique farm-house, hoping to not alert Luke Garroway of his inevitable fate too early. He quickly started towards the house on light feet, never making a sound as he ran, and he pulled out his 9mm to his ready. With the gun cocked and loaded, he made his way up the long dirt path that led to the farm-house. <em>

_Once he reached the old front-door, he made a turn towards the side of the porch. The faded-blue house had a relatively large front-porch, which wrapped all the way around the house to the back. He silently walked to the backdoor, his gun aimed in front of him the entire time. He briefly lowered his weapon to pick the lock on the door, and then he was off into the house; making sure to close the backdoor beforehand just in case someone decided to walk by. Although the chances of one of Luke's neighbors decided to take a walk at 1:00 in the morning are zero to none, Jace just needed to be completely precautious. _

_The farm-house's interior was very warm. So warm that it almost made Jace sick about what he was going to do to the man within the next hour. The walls were painted a light yellow and the floors were impeccably clean, giving off impression of inhabitance. The faint smell of laundry detergent hit Jace's nose as he passed by a closed door, most likely the laundry-room, and he sighed quietly at the memories of his mother doing laundry when he was little. _

_He hadn't had contact with the woman for a little over three years, since he lost the sliver box, because his father prohibited it. Jace fought fiercely at first, even to just call her and hear her voice, but his father had ended the argument swiftly by beating him with the dreaded whip. It was laced with metal-particles, so it ripped up his skin whenever it came in contact with his back. After not being able to stand, or even move, for a week, Jace had let the subject drop. Every now and then he would think about his mother, how she used to sing to him when he got scared and about how she would tell him that she loved him every single day, but he always ended up becoming deeply depressed, even more so than he already was, so he tended to force back the memories and lock them all up into a box in the back of his mind. _

_Since retrieving the dreaded silver box, Jace had never even tried to contact his mother; out of fear. Fear that she would tell him that she was horrified at the monster that he had become and that she would tell him to never call her again. He didn't think that he could handle the only person left in the world that he cared about turning their back on him and abandoning him. So, he has acted like a coward and let the imaginary images of his mother's proud smile linger in his head; instead of finding out if she actually still loves him._

_Never hearing the three little words that he longed to hear for three years has turned him into an emotional little boy when he lets his feeling loose. Therefore, he almost never allowed himself to dwell on the fact that his own mother may not even love him anymore; only once a year. On his birthday. He didn't celebrate or buy himself gifts, but bought enough whiskey to make himself comatose for about a week; all the while remembering his childhood, before his poor excuse of a father turned him into a monster. _

_Inhaling a shaky breath, Jace continued his way down the hallway, until he reached the kitchen. Painted light-yellow just like the rest of the house, the kitchen was extremely welcoming. He quietly walked around the middle island in the center of the kitchen, before entering what appeared to be the dining-room. Old, warn couches and loveseats were placed around a large television set, a small staircase was tucked away into the wall on the opposite side of the room, and a small candy-dish was set out onto the short-table that was in between the couches and the TV. _

_Jace walked over to the staircase and started the ascent to the top. The steps groaned in protest under his weight when he placed his foot on the first one, so he made his way up the stairs using the sides of the old pieces of wood. Once he was safely at the top, he inspected the almost pitch-black hallway in front of him. Doors lined the walls and at the very end of the long hallway, one single door was set. Jace took a small guess that the one at the very end was the master-bedroom, before he silently walked over to it. _

_The door was cracked open slightly and faint snores were coming from inside the room. _Jackpot,_ Jace thought to himself as he opened the door quietly. He walked into the room silently, blinking twice in order for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. _

_A large, king-sized bed was sat in the middle of the room; complete with a form laid out on one side of the bed. More soft snores came from the form as Jace made his way around the bed and aimed his gun at the back of the head that was sticking slightly out of the covers. He paused momentarily and stared at the back of the man's, Luke's, skull hardly. _

_The man was innocent, but he knew that it would hit his father hard if his right-hand-man was declared dead over the evening-news. He bit down on his lip harshly and took in a sharp breath, before pulling the trigger._

_A loud 'poof' sounded through the room and blood splattered the entire front part of Jace's body, but the room was otherwise silent. He had placed a silencer on the end of his 9mm before he had come to Luke's house, just to be sure that no one heard the gunshot and called the authorities. _

"_I'm sorry." Jace's broken voice whispered into the deadly silent room._

_He let out a ragged breath and stumbled away from the now-dead man, looking around the moonlit room for some sign of what to do next. As he was inspecting the room, his eyes landed on something that caused his entire being to freeze and his eyes to grow wide._

_A lone picture frame adorned the large dresser that was placed by the door, containing the face the one person that he had longed to be with for the past three years. Luke, his father, and his mother were all smiling brightly in the picture. His mother, Celine Herondale, was cradling a bundle of blankets and her face was alight with joy, his father was grinning a heartless grin and had his arm slung loosely around Jace's mother's shoulders, and Luke was off to the side and was smiling kindly at the camera, a glint of happiness shining in his light-blue eyes. _

_Jace wandered closer to the picture and tucked his gun into his weapons-belt, lonely tears shining in his eyes. He just stared at the photograph for a long time, grief crashing down onto his shoulders, before the panic started to kick in. _

_He had just killed, murdered, one of his mother's friends while he was sleeping. He had put a bullet in his head in order to get revenge on his father for ruining his life, but he hadn't only killed the man, he had murdered him in front of his mother's picture. He truly _was_ a monster._

_Shallow breaths were all that he was able to inhale as he made a break for the stairs, the walls seemingly closing in on him as he ran. He made it to the backdoor in a haze of self-loathing and panic, before he sprinted away from the faded-blue farm-house._

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><p>Jace's legs collapsed from under him and he slid down onto the tile of the shower, his head bowed in shame and grief. A choked sob escape his chest and he closed his eyes tightly, as if shutting out the tears that he knew would come if he continued to dwell in his memories. The translucent, pink water ran down the drain as the last of the blood rinsed from his crumpled body; causing his attention to catch on the way the dark-red liquid swirled around in the water as it mixed into a lighter shade of red.<p>

When he was finally able to stand up from his spot on the floor of the shower, his legs were weak and his body was pruned from being soaked with water for too long. He sighed tiredly and smoothed back his hair from his forehead as he stepped out of the shower, completely ready to be on his way out of the small town and onto his next 'job'.

No matter how many times he had done this, he could never really get used to being up until sunrise. He would only do 'jobs' at nighttime, after dark. It just made the process of getting the job done that much easier when he didn't have to worry about being seen.

After Jace had burned his blood-stained T-shirt and jeans in the metal-trashcan and he had changed into a fresh set of clothes, he shrugged on his warn jacket, slung the leather messenger-bag over his shoulder, buckled his weapons-belt back around his waist, and wiped away any evidence that he was ever in the motel-room. He exited the room and started towards the bus-stop, abandoning the old truck at the motel.

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><p>The messenger-bag bumped against his side as he climbed onto the bus. He took a seat at the back of the almost-empty bus and finally allowed himself to relax. This bus would take him into the city, where he would catch another bus to New York City and start the end to his mission. He would hold up somewhere in the large city for a couple of months, and then he would end his father once and for all.<p>

The thought of ending this brought a tortured smile to his lips and he closed his eyes as the bus took off, exhaustion getting to him. The sun was just starting to rise in the distance and the dark of night would soon be long gone. Jace leaned his head back against the headrest and started to plan out the next phase of his plan to destroy his father. _He won't know what's hit him..._

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><p><strong>Tada! There you go, enjoy!<strong>

**I have come up with a 'schedule' type of thing for updating. Yay! I'll upload once or twice a week for this particular story, but my main focus is my other story at the moment. Sorry. :{**

**Cassandra Clare owns all, except for my ideas and the plot. :D**

**Thanks for reviewing and telling me your thoughts.**

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	3. Chapter 2

The apartment was relatively large, but had a certain quality to it that Jace liked. He had always wanted to live on his own, away from his father, but he never got the chance to settle down like a normal person would've when they graduated high-school. He didn't even finish high-school, because he was always on the move; running away from the authorities and plotting revenge took up all of his time. He peered around the antique-looking apartment in thought for a minute, before turning back towards the kind-looking lady who owned the apartment building.

"What did you say the price was, again?" he asked curiously, smiling with false-kindness sown at her. She had very tall heels strapped to her feet, Pitch-black hair neatly twisted into a high-knot, and piercing blue eyes that would've caused him to falter three years ago. Even in her heels though, she still stood about an entire head shorter than Jace; with his 6'3 frame and all. He was very thankful for having a tall frame too; it helped intimidate his enemies. The woman gestured around her grandly and started walking towards, what Jace assumed to be, the kitchen.

"We're really not concerned about the price for right now; my husband and I just need to rent out the apartment, so whatever you're willing to pay really. You see, my daughter lives in the apartment below you and she is under the impression that she needs more space. Her apartment has two bedrooms already in it, and she's already turned the extra one into a walk-in closet, so Robert and I figured that she could just condense her belongings into her apartment." she paused and smiled apologetically up at him, as they entered the kitchen. It was rather large and had marble countertops, built-in appliances, and a full-sized sink.

"Sorry. I could just go on and on about how much she frustrates me, but I'll spare your ears of my chatter for now." She giggled to herself sheepishly, before turning her back to him and allowing him to take in the modernized kitchen. "The previous owner had the entire kitchen redone when he moved in, so everything is relatively new. He didn't even live here for six months, until he moved into another apartment." she told him, watching him expectantly as he roamed around the kitchen.

He opened the double-door fridge and, without looking at her, asked, "Why did he move apartments?" curiously.

He had to keep up the appearance of a normal citizen who was looking into buying an apartment. He really couldn't give two shits whether or not the apartment was 'haunted', or if the neighbor next-door sang naked on their balcony. After all, he was only going to live here for the next couple of months while he finalized his plan to take down his father's entire success, and then he would be gone; completely invisible to the rest of the world.

The woman cleared her throat and got a slightly distasteful look upon her face, before she spoke. "Um, he got engaged. To my son." She responded dryly, her eyes conflicted. Jace didn't even bat an eye at her apparent disgust of the homosexual. He didn't really care about, like most mundane things, what other people did with their lives. As long as they left him out of theirs, he would remain neutral with his.

He nodded slightly and shut the fridge doors once more, swinging himself around to face the woman with a completely false smile plastered onto his face. "Great! I'll take it." He said brightly, his plan already unfolding in his head as her eyes widened and she reached into her bag for the papers to the apartment.

As Jace read over the regulation form, he couldn't help but snort at the plainness of every other human's everyday life. While he was basically committing every crime known to man daily, other people were worrying about having small pets in their apartment buildings. _Pathetic, _he thought, although he knew a small part of him longed to be normal again. Sadly, he would never have that option.

When he was done signing the papers and the lease forms, he tipped his head to the side in thought as he watched the woman excitedly place the papers into a manila envelope and into her bag after that. While he was busy taking in the large apartment, he had neglected to remember her name.

"I'm sorry, but what's your name again? I have a very short memory." He explained when she shot him a questioning glance. She immediately smiled and held her hand out.

"Maryse. Maryse Lightwood." 'Maryse' told him as he took ahold of the hand. He nodded in acknowledgement and smiled another fake smile down at her.

"Jace. Jace Wayland." He said smoothly, although she already knew his name from his signature. His heart pinched slightly as he said the name, but he figured that no one would question his name if it wasn't the same as one of the richest men in America. Plus, Jace also used to consider himself Michael Wayland's son, so he really didn't feel all that different.

'Maryse' just smiled again, explained some of the agreements that were on the contract, and then handed the keys over to him. He already hand the money in an envelope in his pocket to pay for the security deposit and the first month's rent, so that was taken care of swiftly.

When he first started his rampage to destroy his father two years ago, he had practically emptied one of his father's many bank accounts. He had all of his money, which was still around 1.3 million dollars, locked away into small banks around the country; well most of it anyway. He carried about 100,000 dollars in a duffle-bag with him everywhere he went. Just in case.

As he looked around the now-empty apartment, because Maryse had left him to situate himself and move his belongings in about fifteen minutes ago, he couldn't help but think that he would soon be free from everything that was holding him down very, very soon.

He would finish what his father forced him to start, make sure that his mother was safe and well, find out the final answers to the many questions that he had about the silver box that was sat in his car at the moment, and then he would finally get some peace. Because only god knew that he deserved it.

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><p>Around three hours and four Mountain Dews later, Jace had moved all of his belongings in from his car, although stolen somewhere from the border of the state of New York, and was planted to one of the seats in the kitchen. He was really smart about which apartment he rented out, because this particular one just happened to be completely furnished. He imagined that if he ever would have had a normal life and would have wanted to liv on his own, he would've looked for a place exactly like the one that he had.<p>

In his car, he only had the bare-minimum essentials; such as the large duffel-bag full of dark clothing, another duffel-bag with his electronics and the silver box, _another _small duffel-bag full of weapons, and then his warn-out leather jacket. He really only carried things with him that he couldn't survive without for the past two years, so he would have to make a stop at Walmart later that day.

He had laid out all of his stuff on the bed in the master-bedroom, the largest out of the four bedrooms in the entire apartment, when he first brought his belongings up the elevator from out of his car. Presently, Jace was sat at the marble counter that separated the kitchen from the dining-area. He had placed his laptop, which he had already taken all of the tracking software off of, in front of him and had the small monitor hooked up to it that instantly gave him free Wi-Fi wherever he happened to be.

When he was being trained by Michael Wayland, the ex-CIA-agent, he was taught not only how to basically become an assassin, but also how to hack into any firewall out there. He was taught how to forge IDs and most legal documents, which came in handy when he decided to go back into the public's eye. Before he fully entered New York, he created himself a passport and a new ID; both under the name 'Jace Wayland'.

It was the perfect disguise, simply because no one would ever recognize the name. When he was still with his father, two years ago, he was always called 'Jonathan'. He started calling himself 'Jace' _after_ he figured out that his father was a deceiving piece of shit, which he couldn't care less about; _after_ he had murdered dozens of innocents within a year's time.

For the first few months after he had gone into hiding, after he had sent his father's assistant to his doorstep in a body-bag, Jace had camped out in an abandoned cabin somewhere in The Rockies. There, he had started putting together his plan to destroy all that his father was and is. When he had finally figured out all of the details to his plot, he had started the 'commencing' of his revenge.

Jace closed his laptop and rubbed his hands down his face slowly, blowing out a tired breath in the process. The final steps to his fake identity were finished, so now he could finally get some sleep. He had been awake for the past 48 hours, completing and securing his new placement for the next few months, so he was utterly exhausted.

Standing up from the tall stool that he was seated upon, Jace numbly made his way out of the kitchen and into the rather large living-room. He stripped off his shirt and dropped it onto the dark wooden-floor as he walked blindly over to the large couch in the middle of the room. He had already taken off his jacket and weapons-belt earlier, about ten minutes after he had all of his stuff in his newly-rented apartment.

When his shirt was no longer constructing his view of the living-room, he plopped himself down onto the couch and took in the room again.

One large couch was sat in the middle of the room; which he was sitting on, a 50'' flat-screen TV was mounted in front of the couch, a small low-table was sat in between the two, and then a fancy-looking rug underneath of it all. The couch was black leather, so it squeaked slightly when he shifted into a laying position. As he looked over the room again, he couldn't help but think that he was smart about renting out a furnished apartment.

As he allowed his eyes to slip shut, he let the cool temperature of the room to calm his already growing headache. Not sleeping for almost two days straight will do that to a man. The apartment smelled kind of outdoorsy, like a manly-man had lived here before him. It smelled faintly of sandalwood, but the scent wasn't overpowering the outdoor aroma that was lingering in the air. Jace breathed in deeply and grabbed his jacket from where he had thrown it on the short-table earlier, draping the worn leather over his torso.

After a moment of letting his mind focus on the simple smell of the room, he came to a conclusion that someone had sprayed very expensive cologne throughout the entire apartment in order to cover up the sandalwood scent.

He finally sighed, forcing all thoughts out of his drained mind, and buried his head down into the fluffy arm of the couch. The couch must have been rather expensive, considering that it felt more comfortable than any hotel bed he had slept in during the past two years. Or maybe it was just his need to go to sleep, but either one was fine with him.

With one final sigh, he allowed himself to get some rest; knowing that whatever he planned to do for the next few months, until the little game that he and his father had been playing for years, would need all of his energy. _Maybe more…_

* * *

><p>A loud banging on the apartment door woke Jace out of his temporary slumber. He blinked groggily for a moment, before springing up from the couch and racing to the kitchen, where he had dropped his weapons-belt earlier. The knocking continued as he readied one of his many Glock handguns, clicking a bullet into place just in case.<p>

He cautiously made his way over to the front door of the apartment, peered out of the peephole in the door, and then groaned tiredly when he saw who was standing outside of his door.

A little girl, maybe fourteen, leaned against the wall across form his apartment. She had crimson colored hair, which attracted Jace to her even though he had yet to open the door, and bright green eyes. Her eyes resembled cut emeralds; sharp and shining brightly. Her face was thin and she had a light dusting of freckles over her cheeks, making her appear innocent. She had her head tilted down over a smart-phone and was idly biting her lip in thought.

With a sigh of exasperation, not really wanting to deal with a little girl at the moment, Jace holstered his gun in the waistband of his jeans, tucking the barrel into the back of his pants, before opening the door. Fully aware that he was still shirtless, he leaned against the doorframe and waited for the girl to notice that the door had opened.

Finally, after growing tired of waiting for her to look up from her phone, her cleared his throat and prepared himself to be bombarded with girl-scout cookie pamphlets. The girl glanced up from her phone, seeming slightly startled, before she smiled timidly up at him.

"Sorry. I, uh, just wanted to say hi and welcome you to the 'neighborhood'." She mumbled, staring down at her feet and biting her lip again. Blinking in surprise at the maturity in her tone, Jace squinted slightly down a t her in further investigation.

Now that he was looking at her more closely, he realized that she wasn't fourteen. She was most likely around his age, but she was just really short. He estimated her to be around 5'2, because she came to about the middle of his chest; maybe.

He nodded slowly and looked down the hallways on either side of the doorway that he was leaning against, scanning the area for anybody else. When he deemed the hallways clear, which only took him half of a second, he turned back to the girl and smirked the smirk that he would've used three years ago to flirt.

"Hey." He said smoothly, watching a slight flush creep up her neck when she risked glancing up at him from her feet. The girl tucked a loose strand of her deep-red hair behind her ear and shifted slightly under his intent gaze.

"Uh, hi. Again. My names Clary." She stumbled out and stuck a hand out towards him shyly, peering up at him through her lashes. He bit back a grin at how adorable she looked when she blushed, like a timid little kitten, and grasped her small hand in his.

"Jace. It's nice to meet you, Clary." He stated softly, watching her with hidden interest as her eyes ran over his face and a more prominent blush rose to her cheeks.

Jace knew that he was attractive, he always had been. He used to use it to his advantage too, but that was before his entire world crashed down within a matter of seconds. Now though, he watched with amusement as Clary's eyes traveled down to his still-bare chest and widen slightly, chuckling under his breath when her cheeks flamed more than they already were.

"Um, sorry if I bothered you. My friend kind of forced me to do this and you're probably busy…" she trailed off, pointing at one of the many doors down the hall and starting to amble her way towards it. He just chuckled again and shook his head.

"Nah. It's fine, really. I was only sleeping. No big deal." He said kindly, trying to ease up her embarrassment. She bit her lip and nodded, before turning around fully and quickly making her way to the door that she was already headed towards. When she reached the door and started to open it, she glanced back at him with a questioning gaze.

"You were sleeping at two in the afternoon?" she asked curiously, an amused smile touching her soft lips. He grinned at her and nodded, gesturing to his bare torso.

"I was up really late last night trying to find an apartment, so I took a nap. Problem?" he inquired playfully, tilting his head to the side challengingly. Clary just giggled quietly and wiggled her fingers at him from her spot down the hall.

"I guess I'll see you later sometime. I'll introduce you to my friends if you want…" she said unsurely, looking back and forth between him and her door. He chuckled and nodded, before stepping back inside of his apartment.

"Sure. Later, Clary." And with one last totally fake smile, he closed the door. As he pressed his ear against the dark wood, he could faintly hear the distinctive sound of another door closing down the hall.

Straightening up from his position by the door, he grabbed the gun that was till tucked into the waistband of his jeans and dropped it onto the short-table as he made his way through the living-room and down the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

Five doors lined the rather large hallway, four bedrooms and one bathroom. The master, where he had placed most of his belongings earlier, was at the end of the hall. He made a bee-line to his room and started gathering up all of his weapons. He rounded all of them up from around the apartment, with the exception of one Glock, and placed all of them into one of his many duffel-bags.

After the entire apartment was clear of weapons, he hid the Duffel-bag underneath of one of the floor panels in one of the three spare bedrooms. The loose panel just so happened to be inside of the closet, so he didn't have to worry about moving a desk, or something else that he would have to buy, over the top of it to keep it concealed.

When he was done with that, he made his way back into the living-room and plopped himself right back down onto the couch. He would've gone back to sleep in his new bedroom, but the mattress was still bare ad he was too lazy to go out and purchase sheets and a comforter at that moment. He closed his eyes and tucked his leather jacket over his arms once again, before calming his mind and willing sleep to come. Since it was only 2:00pm, he had only gotten about five hours of sleep since he fell asleep earlier.

With final thoughts about his conversation with Clary, he allowed his mind to relax and drifted off into the black abyss. At least for a little while…

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><p><strong>Hi. I'm sorry about the delayed update. I was busy finishing <strong>_**Opposition by Jennifer L. Armentrout.**_** If you haven't read the **_**Lux**_** series, then I highly recommend doing so. It's just… amazing. **

**Just in case some of you didn't know what a Glock is, it's basically a gun brand. They make really awesome handguns and I love them.**

**Anyway, I really hope that you guys liked the chapter and tell me what you think in a review. **

**Thanks for all of the support. :D**

**Review&Follow.**


	4. Chapter 3

When Jace was woken up again, just by telling form the fading light outside, it was around dusk. City lights shone through the windows of his apartment and right into his eyes, so he was forced to wake up no matter how much he wanted to continue sleeping. Rolling off of the couch and onto the floor, he reached blindly for his phone that he had laid down onto the short-table earlier. He blinked blurrily for a moment as his fingers fumbled for the power-button, trying to make himself wake up more, and then he was pushing himself up off of the floor after checking the time. 5:30pm. He must've only slept for two hours since he had met Clary and he was still exhausted.

He stretched his arms over his head and then walked into the kitchen. As he walked, he took note of his shirt and jacket thrown onto the floor. He quickly retrieved his shirt from the floor and pulled it over his head, all the while walking into the large kitchen.

His laptop was still sat haphazardly on the counter, the duffel-bag that contained all of his electronics was placed on one of the empty chairs by the counter, and empty bottles of Mountain Dew were scattered all over the surface of the marble-countertop. Jace made his way over to the fridge and yanked open the door, before running a hand through his hair I exasperation.

He would have to go to the store before he even thought about doing anything tonight. He had no food, no bedding to sleep on, and he would need to buy soap so that he could shower. Groaning tiredly, not really in the mood to deal with this shit, he grabbed one of the many full Mountain Dew bottles from out of the fridge and kicked the door shut with his foot.

Earlier, right after Maryse had left him to settle down in his new apartment, he had come across a vending machine in the laundry-room of the apartment building. He had bought all of the caffeinated drinks he could get his hands on, and he would've bought food had here ben any but there wasn't, and then he had gone straight back to the elevator and up to his temporary home. If he hadn't gotten the energizing drinks, he would've surely crashed from exhaustion before he could tap into the Wi-Fi and start setting up the final stages of his plan.

Now though, with everything set up and ready to be assimilated, he could finally start acting like a normal citizen. For a few months at least; he liked to think about it as if he were in a play. All that he had to do was put on a little show, maybe get a job so that no one questioned how he was affording such a big apartment, and then he could lay low for a while until his plan was all in place. It was simple really; the only thing that he would have to do, though, is stay away from people who could end up getting caught up in his mess. He didn't want anybody else to have to suffer through the life that he was living, so he would make sure to shut down every single advance that anybody made on him.

Sadly, that meant that he would have to be an asshole to the nice girl that he had met earlier that day; Clary.

Groaning to himself in frustration, he unscrewed the cap of the soda-bottle that he had in his hand and took a gulp of the fizzy energy. He was probably going to have a major sugar overload later that night from all of the caffeine that he had drunken, but it would be worth it if it meant that he would get to make it to the nearest store and buy himself some bedding and sheets. Sleeping on the couch was going to start screwing with his back if he continued to do it; especially when there was a perfectly good mattress in his room that just needed a comforter to be able to sleep on.

Jace walked over to his laptop and flipped it open, before turning it on and setting himself down onto one of the tall-barstools that were set at the counter. He then proceeded to type in 'Walmart stores in New York City' on google. He found one that was located on the outskirts of the city, so basically right by his apartment building, and he shut down his laptop after memorizing the directions to the store.

Once he had placed his wallet and phone into his pocket, threw on his jacket again, and had his boots on his feet, he was ready to head out. He figured that he would just take a taxi, simply because he didn't want to be driving the stolen car that he had taken to get here with its stolen plates around New York; where he would most likely get caught on a traffic-cam. He made sure that everything in his apartment was locked up and that all of his weapons were stashed in one of the spare closets, before he walked out of the door.

He figured that he should leave his extra gun in the apartment, just in case he got stopped. It would be really bad if the police found him with a handgun that he didn't even have a carrier's permit for.

With his lonely handgun that was sitting safely in his dresser on his mind, he stepped out of the apartment and closed the door, locking it as he went. He was going to try to avoid Clary and his other neighbors as much as possible, because believe it or not he didn't find joy in being an asshole to innocent people, but it appeared that he didn't really have an option. Clary was coming out of her apartment at the same time that he was, only she had three other people with her.

The guy had black hair and blue eyes, and he also towered over the rest of the group with his tall frame. The first of the two girls had light-brown braids all over her head and brown eyes, while the second girl had long, black hair and dark-brown eyes. Clary stood out in the group to Jace, with her small stature and her crimson-red hair, but that was just his opinion.

The group halted their conversations when they saw him down the hall and Clary's eyes lit up like a child on Christmas Day. She tugged on both of the other girls' arms as she made her way over to Jace and the guy hung back behind them, but followed their lead all the same. When Clary was only a couple of feet away from Jace, she stopped walking and so did the three figures around her. She smiled up at Jace and he was forced to give a small smile back. It seemed almost impossible to be mean to someone so nice, so he didn't know how he was going to go about his earlier plan; especially with other people there to witness it.

"Hi, Jace." she chirped brightly, nodding her head up to him, before turning to her friends. "Guys, this is Jace. He just moved into our lovely building. Jace," she turned her head back to him. "these are some of the friends that I was telling you about earlier today. This is Izzy," she pointed to the tall girl with black hair. "Maia," her finger moved over to the other girl. "And last, but not least, this is Alec. He's still a little grumpy that I beat him on COD." She pointed to the tall guy behind them, adding the last part under her breath. 'Maia' and 'Izzy' giggled and smiled up at him, because he still outranked all of the people who were in front of him with his 6'3 frame.

Jace smirked falsely down at them, before shoving a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the elevator. "I was just about to go out, so…" he trailed off when he saw the beginning of a plan start to form in 'Izzy's eyes. She turned back to Alec and winked.

"Really? Where were you going to go?" she inquired curiously, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Jace tried to remain nonchalant, but he was really not going to like whatever she had planned and he knew it too.

"Um, Walmart? I need more stuff for my apartment." he said unsurely, his eyes flickering down to Clary's in question. She had a frightened look plastered onto her face as she glanced over at Maia and widened her eyes fractionally. _Why do I have a feeling that she knows exactly what Izzy's planning,_ Jace thought to himself. Some of the light faded out of Izzy's eyes when he announced that he was just going to the store, but soon another idea must've popped into her head, because she smiled up at him even brighter and looked at Clary from the corner of her eye.

"Well, can we go with you? I know for a fact that none of us have plans and you look like a fun guys to be around." She said, not really giving him the option to decline. _Yeah, I'm real fun. Especially when I'm ramming a knife through your throat,_ he thought to himself grimly, but smiled down at the group and nodded externally. Izzy clapped her hands together twice, before dashing around him and down the hall towards the elevator.

"Yay! I'll go get Maggie and Si, and then we can go." And with that, she stepped onto the elevator and closed the door. Jace just stared after her with a dumbstruck look on his face, wondering what the hell a 'Maggie' and a 'Si' were.

"Don't worry about her. She's just really eccentric in general. If you just annoy her, she'll most likely go away." The guy, Alec, said from behind Jace; startling him and causing his to whip his head over in his direction. Jace blinked a couple of times, before registering what the other guy said and chuckling half-heartedly.

"What are the chances for that actually working?" he asked, completely serious. Alec laughed to himself, probably thinking that Jace was kidding, and shook his head. "Not good."

* * *

><p>About ten minutes later, Jace stood in the lobby of the apartment building with Clary, Izzy, Alec, Maia, a very sparkly man named Magnus, and a lanky kid named Simon. Izzy was checking her purse for money and something else, which Jace could care less to remember. She had taken <em>forever<em> to get Magnus and Simon downstairs and he was totally over waiting for people that he couldn't even get close to in order to go the damned store.

Finally, after Izzy declared that she was ready to leave, he raced out of the apartment building and towards the sidewalk. Jace didn't even pause and wait for the rest for the unnecessarily large group to start hailing down a taxi. Just as he was about to try again at getting a cab, he felt small tug on his jacket and his muscles tensed. He _really_ did not like being touched; it was just a side-effect of his father's 'training' methods.

Jace glanced down at the offender and was about to tell them to back off, only to have the harsh words die on his lips. Clary looked up at him with a sweet smile, her small hand softly laid on his forearm and her bright-green eyes shining with amusement.

"What are you doing?" she inquired, retracting her hand back to herself and looking up into his eyes expectantly. He tried to make his muscles relax, and succeeded slightly, before responding.

"Getting a taxi." He stated, as if his actions were obvious. She giggled and shook her head.

"I knew that already. The question was rhetorical." She told him, her smile widening and his lips hinting with a soft grin as well. "What I meant was, 'Why are you hailing a cab?' We have cars in the lot; right over there." She said, throwing a thumb over her shoulder to prove her point. Jace's eyes flickered briefly over her shoulder, and sure enough. Three, brand-spanking-new, sports-cars were parked side by side right to the left of the apartment building. Letting out a low whistle, because even if he was practically an assassin he was still a guy, he allowed Clary to lead him towards them. She glanced back at him several times and blushed when he winked as they made their way across the car-park and towards the cars.

The others were standing around the cars and were talking amongst themselves, only glancing up when Jace and Clary stopped before one of the cars. Izzy smiled brightly over at Jace, at which he just stared at her blankly, and motioned for him to join her over at the car that she was standing at.

"C'mon, Jace. You can ride with me and Si." She said, causing him to bite his tongue to keep all unkind words at bay and nod. He didn't really want to be going with any of them, but he liked Clary the most out of the entire group. He didn't know whether it was the innocence that practically shone from her smiles, or if it was the way that she had been relatively accepting for the small amount of time that he had known her, or even if he just trusted he because she seemed like the least likely to be caught up in anything remotely like what he was forced to do for a living. He simply didn't know, but he semi-liked the small red-head.

"Sure…" he mumbled under his breath, walking towards Izzy and forcing a false smile for her benefit. She didn't seem to notice his attitude and just opened the back door for him, before jumping into the passenger side of the car.

He slid into the car, hearing other doors slam around him on the other cars, and buckled his seatbelt. Izzy was practically jumping around in her seat as the guy, Simon, started the very expensive-looking car and pulled out of the car-park. Jace internally groaned and leaned back in his seat, looking out of his window to try to distract himself from the dark thoughts that were trying to invade his thoughts. _Just reach forward and snap the guy's neck, then all you'd have to do is off the annoying girl and you could get yourself out of this torture. Do it when the car stops next, like at the next stoplight. _He squeezed his eyes shut and took in a deep breath, forcing his thoughts into a cage in the back of his mind and locking the door on them. _No! Shut up. I am not, and will not anytime in the future, murder Clary's friends. No matter how much I want to_.

Jace probably sat there, deeply breathing and squeezing his eyes shut painfully, for most of the ride. That is, until Izzy caught sight of him doing so and snapped him out of his trance-like focus.

"Are you okay? You look like you're in pain." She told him, concern taking over her usually bubbly voice. His eyes snapped open and he came face to face with Izzy, her neck twisted around and her dark eyes focused on his face intently. He just nodded and looked back out of his window, not even bothering to respond verbally to her while he forced the ugly thoughts out of his mind again.

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><p>After a very long car ride, cars honking at Simon's terrible driving, and Jace having to pray a silent prayer that they would make it to Walmart in one piece, they finally arrived. As soon as the car was semi-parked, Jace threw open his door and practically jumped out of the car. <em>No wonder the cars all look new, <em>he thought. _All of these guys' other cars got crashed on the way to the car dealership._

He straightened himself up into a standing position and waited for the rest of the group to park their cars and get out. Once everyone was ready to go into the store, Jace practically ran towards the entrance. Clary was most likely back behind him with her friends, but he really couldn't've cared less at that point. He did though, against his better judgment, wait for the rest of the group when he was by where the shopping-carts were kept and set off into the store along with Clary and her friends.

About an hour later, he had, with the help of the others of course, an entire cart full of unhealthy food and other things. Some of those 'things' were really unnecessary for his survival, but he would learn to live with them for the next few months. An example of those 'things' would be: a black body-pillow, several movies that he hadn't had the time to watch in the past three years, some clothing that Izzy and Magnus had picked out for him and tossed in the cart while he wasn't looking, and a couple of books from the discount section. Normally, Jace would've taken out anything that he didn't feel the need to buy, but he was too tired to argue with Izzy about how he already had a leather jacket or with Magnus that he had never used hair-gel in his entire life.

Sometime within the last twenty minutes, everybody except for Clary had disappeared off into the store to go explore. Clary had been remotely quiet throughout the entire journey, so Jace glanced down at her with an eyebrow raised as he tossed several toiletries into the almost-full cart.

"Why are you so quiet? Did my beauty stun you into shock?" he teased, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lip as he reach out and placed a can of shaving-cream into the cart. He allowed his eyes flickered over her face, noting smugly that her cheeks flushed and that she avoided his eyes as she stumbled out an answer.

"N-no. I was just trying to get a feel of your personality. I guess that I forgot to speak up…" she stammered, looking down at her feet. Jace's heart sped up slightly in panic when she said that she was figuring out his 'personality'. He, personally, didn't really think that he had one except for the dangerous criminal that he was trying to hide from Clary and her friends.

"Oh? And what did you find out?" he inquired, keeping his façade calm and collected. He pushed the cart down the aisle and came across soap. _Why are there so many kinds? We all use soap, I hope, so why put different labels on it…_

Most likely noticing his struggle, Clary grabbed a bottle of Axe 3-in-1 soap and handed it to him as she responded. "Nothing really; just that you like junk-food and try to avoid physical contact with practically everyone." She paused and watched him with a thoughtful look on her face as he shrugged and threw the bottle in the cart and moved on down the store. "Oh! And that you are really sarcastic. Like, all the time." She added as an afterthought, causing him to internally sigh with relief and smirk down at her on the outside.

"No… Really?" Was his sarcastic answer, his smirk turning into full-out grin when she giggled.

"Yup." She popped the 'P' and grinned back up at him. Jace just chuckled and pushed the cart into another aisle, idly taking note that he would need to get bedding while he was there after looking at the items on the shelves. He stopped the cart when they reached the comforters and gazed thoughtfully at the selection.

"What color do you think I should get?" he inquired to her, never taking his eyes off the seemingly endless amount of comforters. Clary's hand shot out in his peripheral, and then a bright-pink comforter was shoved in front of his face.

"There. Now your bed can be as pretty as you are." She stated, amusement slipping heavily into her tone. He grimaced at the girly color and gently took the comforter from her hand.

"Yeah… No." He sat it back on the shelf where, he assumed, Clary had grabbed it from, and replaced it with an all-black one instead. "I like this one." he told her, dropping the large, square-ish package down on top of the pile of stuff in his cart. She just laughed and nodded.

"Okay. I guess that's another thing that I can add to my 'Jace's Personality List'. Likes junk-food, doesn't like being touched, is very sarcastic, and likes the color black. I think that we're getting somewhere." She stated, grinning up at him. He just shook his head and laughed, a small part of him amused by her completely wrong view of his personality. _If only you knew about the things I've done…_

They finished up shopping, and the headed towards the check-outs. Jace started to enjoy Clary's company, but had to keep reminding himself of his plan. _You can start being an ass to her tomorrow,_ he told himself. _One night of socializing with your really sweet neighbor, and then you need to focus on the plan. Yeah, the plan…_

The only problem that he had with following his mind's instructions, was that he wasn't positive that he wanted to be an ass to Clary. He didn't think that he had the heart to do anything negative to her, so he would just have to wait and see. _More like tough it out and move on…_

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><p><strong>Hello, Earthlings. Here's the next chapter, enjoy!<strong>

**Cassandra Clare owns all, except for my stuff. :D**

**Thanks for reviewing and telling me your thoughts. It means so much to me. :D**

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	5. Chapter 4

A loud knocking woke Jace up from his sleep, causing him to reach under his mattress and pull out one of his many 9mms in alarm. The knocking sounded like it was coming from the front door of the apartment, the sound resonating throughout the fairly large space, but he could never be too sure. Rolling out of bed, Jace silently made his way out of his room. The air was cool against his bare chest and he shivered slightly as he made his way down the hall, towards the front door. Readying the gun at aim, he stepped out into the living-room.

The random items around his apartment made him feel slightly at home, something that he hadn't had for a long time. He was rather reluctant to buy several of the unnecessary things that Clary had thrown into his cart, but he was now thankful that he did. He was so used to sleeping in dirty hotel rooms and stolen vehicles, and before he had left two years before, he had always been forced to keep his room immaculately clean, so a little difference in his daily routine was a good thing.

The knocking paused momentarily as Jace neared the front-door, before it started again; much louder this time than the last. When he reached the door, he peered through the small hole that was on the face of the door and clicked a bullet into place as he examined the hallway outside of his apartment. After a moment of looking right and left of the hallway through the hole and not seeing anything, he cautiously opened the door a crack.

"Hello? Who's there?" he demanded through the small space in the door. I shuffle sounded outside of the dark-oak slab and a sigh of relief came into his ears.

"Oh, thank god you're home! I was getting really worried, Jace. You take forever to answer your door." A light, familiar voice exclaimed. With a tired sigh and a moment of hesitating whether or not to let her in, he closed the door, as if to unhook the chain, and hid his gun in the drawer if the table that was located by the door. After checking to make sure that nothing seemed suspicious, he threw open the door and came face to face with Izzy. She was beaming up at him, even in her deadly tall heels, and had a sparkly stack of papers in her arms.

"Hi! I hope I'm not interrupting anything I-" she cut herself off and allowed her eyes to rake up and down his bare chest, causing Jace to roll his eyes and bite his tongue to keep from saying anything too crude. "Well… aren't you delicious." She mumbled to herself as she finally met his eyes again, a mischievous spark in hers.

With another tired sigh, Jace stared down at her impatiently and arched an eyebrow. "Sorry, but why are you here exactly? I was sleeping." Izzy just giggled and handed him one of the sparkly flyers, glitter falling to the floor and all over his hands as she did.

"You were sleeping? At one o'clock in the afternoon?!" she inquired incredulously, before seeming to forget that fact and giggling again. Jace internally cursed himself for forgetting that normal people didn't sleep while the sun was out and just stared at her blankly in response to her rhetorical questions. "I came to invite you to the party later tonight. I know that it's really short notice, but everybody will be there and I bet that you'll have a lot of fun. We're celebrating Magnus' B-day, so it's a pretty big deal." She told him, her entire body vibrating with excitement. Jace eyed her warily and looked down at the flyer in his hands.

'COME AND CELEBRATE THE MOST IMPORTANT DAY OF ALL TIME WITH US AT 7:00! MAGNUS DOESN'T KNOW, SO SHHHH!

(P.S. THERE'LL BE CAKE AND VODKA.)'

Jace's eyes flickered back and forth between the flyer and Izzy's face several times as he tried desperately to come up with an excuse not to go. _You can't go. You have to distance yourself from these people before you hurt somebody else. You don't want that to happen, not again; especially not to Clary…_

"I, uh, can't. Sorry, I have to…" he trailed off and looked back into his apartment, his eyes searching for something to help him. When his eyes scanned the living-room that was just slightly visible through the short hallway by the door, they landed on the perfect escape plan. Right there, laying on top of the short-table by the couch, was a newspaper that he had picked up earlier to find a job in. He still needed to keep up his façade, and no normal person would be able to afford as large of an apartment as he had without a job, so he was going to get a job at a local diner or something of the sort. Just until his plan was ready to execute.

"I have to go find a job. The bills won't pay themselves, so…" he started to shut the door, but Izzy placed a perfectly manicured hand on it and shook her head up at him vigorously.

"Nonsense! You can just work here with the rest of us! That's how we all have free rent and-" she continued on talking, but Jace didn't hear a word she said. _Work here?! Oh hell no. Not gonna happen. I have to distance myself away from these people, not put them in even more danger than they are already in with me just living in the same building as them._

"I already have an interview scheduled, so…" he cut in, forcing his face to remain impassive as he lied and stopping her midsentence during her rant of where he would work in the building. She stared at him for a moment, seeming to notice the slight impatience in his voice, before she nodded and smiled up at him widely.

"Alright! That's great!" she paused and glanced down at the sparkly piece of paper that Jace still held in his hand. "Anyway, back to business. You can just come by later after your interview, can't you? The party is going to last until, like, two o'clock in the morning. If I know Magnus at all, which I have for years, he'll be partying for at least five hours. It's going to be great!" she said, her tone determined to make him come to the party. He stared at her as he clenched his jaw tightly, starting to feel trapped.

"I don't know… I have things-" he tried again, to no avail though. She just waved her hand at him and shook her head.

"I'm sure that you'll find time for those 'things' later. After you come to the party tonight! Yay! This' going to be _so_ much fun!" she squealed, causing Jace to cringe and force a smile.

"Sure. _Fun_. Well, I have to go now, so…" he started to close the door again, but stopped in his tracks when she said her next sentence. "Clary will be so excited when I tell her you're coming! I can't wait until you two admit that you're in love with each other! You'll be so cute! I ship you for, like ever. Go Clace!"

He stared down at her face, which was so excited that it was practically bursting with enthusiasm, uncomprehendingly and cleared his throat slightly. "What's a 'Clace'?" he asked unsurely, unsure he wanted to know the answer to his question or not.

With another giggle out of her many, which were starting to seriously grate on Jace's final nerve, her eyes sparked with mischief and she started down the hall towards Clary's door. "Oh, it's just you and Clary's ship-name. That's all. No biggy." And with that, she opened the door to Clary's door and slipped inside, sparkles from the stack of flyers dusting the floor in her wake.

Jace stared after her with a shocked expression for a moment, before retreating into his apartment and leaning against the now-closed front-door. He ran a hand through his hair, taking note how he felt dirty, and closed his eyes, blowing out a slow breath all the while.

_Why can't these people just leave me alone? They're practically signing their death-certificates with ballpoint-pens,_ he thought to himself desperately. _You're going to get them all killed and then you'll have to live with the consequences and the aftermath of it all. _

He straightened himself up from his slightly slouched position on the door and started down the hallway that led to the bedrooms, walking into his room and straight into the attached bathroom once there. He stripped down and out of his clothes, the remaining ones that is, and hopped into the shower quickly.

Now, with the scalding-hot water pounding down onto his tense back and with his muscles starting to uncoil from their tightly strung tensions, he leaned his head against the cool tiles of the shower's wall and sighed. He was really and truly exhausted, no matter how much sleep he got. He felt that he could sleep for forever and he still wouldn't feel rested. He hadn't felt rested, or at peace for that matter, for a couple of years. His life was always on the same pattern, much like an old record set on repeat and it just kept repeating the same song over and over again until the listeners went mad from frustration. That's exactly how he felt, as if he were going mad.

Closing his eyes and focusing on the water that was running down his worn form, his thoughts traveled back to Izzy and their earlier conversation. _What did she mean 'Clary and I's ship-name'? What the hell is a 'ship-name'? Why is she 'shipping' us?_ Those thoughts brought his mind back to a certain redhead and her unique personality.

She didn't tolerate his shit; like when he tried to be rude to her, she just was rude right back to him. She had a fiery spark in her that intrigued Jace, and yet she had a shy side all at the same time. Jace had teased her while they were in the store earlier that week, and she had blushed scarlet every single time he brought up anything remotely sexual. He found it rather amusing and was surprised that he liked watching her blush. Yes, she was an enigma. That was for sure.

Shaking his mind clear of all thoughts, Jace straightened up and finished his shower. He was slightly grateful, though he would never admit it, that Clary had gone shopping with him. He would've been completely lost when it came to buying anything other than food, and he most likely would have ended up buying girls' soap for all he knew.

He stepped out of the shower once he was done and wrapped a large, black towel around his waist before walking into his room.

Towels.

Those were another thing that he wouldn't have thought to buy if not for Clary. Jace really knew nothing about owning his own apartment; with his mother having had taken care if most of his needs when he still lived at home and all. He had been living in shitty motel-rooms for so long, that he had forgotten that normal people buy their own things to make their homes more welcoming.

On the road he had no need for dishes or towels, because all of those things were provided in the places he stayed in, so all he had to buy himself were toiletries. And even then, he only had a small bag filled to the rim with travel-sized containers. He had no need to buy large containers or bottles of anything, because he would just stop at the local store anytime he was in need of more of something.

To Jace, it seemed that life was a lot simpler when he was on the road. There was no need for anything unnecessary in his life, and that was how he likes things. The only problem with that for him now though, was that he was starting to enjoy having extra things surrounding him. Did he need a small fish-tank in his living room? No. Did he enjoy having it there? Yes. To him, the answer was simple.

He would just enjoy the things that he had for the next few months until his father was in the position to be taken down, and then he would leave everything behind him. That was the main reason why he couldn't get close to anybody while he lived where he did; because he would have to leave them and then potentially hurt them emotionally when he did. He may have been a killer, murderer, whatever you would call him, but he didn't actually like being the monster that he was. It wasn't his choice anymore. He had decided that two years ago, right after he had learned the truth of what his father had made him become. He was already in too deep and there was no possible way that he could go back to the way he was before.

Truth is, he was a monster. Point and blank. He knew that and he had to live with it for the rest of his miserable life.

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><p>In the end, he ended up getting a job at a local bookstore. Apparently the owner died recently, so Maia offered Jace a job. She was very nice about hiring him to stock the shelves and said that she was 'grateful that he needed a job because she was having trouble running the store by herself ever since Luke died'. Her eyes had gotten slightly glassy when she said 'Luke's' name, but she had just blinked several times and then showed Jace what he would be doing around the store.<p>

He had found the job perfect, simply because it took up most of his day so he could have a reason to avoid Clary and her friends and because the bookstore was located only a block away from his apartment building. The only downside to working at the store, was that Maia was friends with the people he was trying to avoid. His chances of staying away from the inhabitants of his apartment building were slim, but he was determined to keep to his plan.

Maia had put him to work as soon as she had finished showing him around the store, and after making sure that he wasn't busy first, so now he was placing book after book upon one of the many rows of shelving units in the relatively large store. In truth, he kind of liked his new job. He had always loved to read because his mother did so to him when he was younger, so books were one of his only comforts.

He, of course, hadn't picked up a book just to read for fun for a long time, but he was hoping that he could sometime while he was waiting out his plan.

He set down the last book out of the box that Maia had handed him when she had 'put him to work' and sighed, satisfied. He had only been stocking the shelves for about an hour, and Maia had informed him earlier that day that they would be closing up shop early in order for her to go help set up things for Magnus' party, so he glanced over at the clock that was on the wall across the store to check the time. 5:40pm. He sighed and walked over to the front-counter, where Maia was sat with her phone in hand. He had left his apartment at about three o'clock in order to find a job, so he had been out for almost three hours.

Leaning against the counter with his palms flat against its glass surface, he cleared his throat in order to gain Maia's attention. She looked up at him in surprise and smiled brightly up at him.

"Hi. Are you done?" she asked curiously, pressing the power-button on her phone as she spoke. He nodded and straightened up from the counter, running a hand through his hair as he went.

"Yeah. Do you need anything else?" he inquired politely, silently hoping that she would say 'No' so that he could go back to his apartment and hide from Izzy for the rest of the evening. She just shook her head and stood up from the stool that she was sat on.

"Nope. I'm all good. You can go home if you want. I'm about to close the store up anyway." She told him, causing him to internally sigh with relief. Externally though, he just nodded his head slightly down at her in understanding and started towards the front-door, walking backwards so that his eyes were still on hers as he went.

"Alright. I guess that I'll see you later." he said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder as he did. She just nodded and walked out from behind the counter.

"Are you going to Magnus' party tonight? I know that Izzy said that she'd invite you, but…" she trailed off unsurely, her gaze expectant as she fixed it on his face. He bit his tongue to hold back the loud 'No!' that he wanted to shout, and instead nodded whilst smiling falsely down at her.

"Yeah, I'll be there." Was his simple statement, him not trusting himself to say more for the fear of saying something extremely rude to his new 'employer'. Not that he actually needed the money or anything, but having a job certainly did help him keep up his appearance while he was living where he was.

She nodded and waved slightly at him as he reached the door. "Okay. See you later, Jace." and with that, she left him to exit the store as she disappeared into the backroom. He didn't hesitate leaving the store and starting down the sidewalk towards his apartment building.

When he finally reached his apartment after walking the short distance to the large complex from the bookstore, Jace locked himself inside of his new abode and threw himself down onto the couch once inside the living-room. Sliding his hands down his face tiredly, he leaned back into the couch and fished the remote for the TV from the short-table that was sat on the side of the large couch. He turned on the TV, settling to watch old cartoons, and tried to get his mind to relax. He was not excited at all that he was practically being forced to go to Magnus' stupid party, when he didn't even know the damned guy. After about ten minutes of thinking, Jace came up with a plan to survive the night.

He would go to the party, most likely stand awkwardly in the corner of the room, avoid all alcoholic beverages at all costs, and then retreat back up to his apartment after staying for an hour.

With dreadful thoughts on his mind about how that night would go, he settled back into the couch more and tuned into the show that the TV was currently blaring out. _This is going to suck ass…_

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><p><strong>Hi… I have one thing to say to you all, and that is:<strong>

**I'M SORRY? I tried to update sooner, I really did, but school got in the way and the holiday season is really busy for me with testing and all, so… once again. I'm sorry.**

**Thank you all for reviewing and telling me your thoughts on my story. It means so much to me, you don't even know. :D**

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	6. Chapter 5

The music was loud is Jace's ears as he stepped off of the elevator, the beat of the bass rattling his every bone. He bit his lip, glancing from the still-open elevator to the door at the end of the long hallway before him, debating whether or not he could still make a break for it and go hide up in his apartment for the remaining hours of the night without Izzy catching him. He figured that his chances were slim but he still had a slight chance of escaping, so he made as to turn back and retreat into the elevator.

Sadly for him though, the door at the end of the hallway chose that exact moment to swing open.

Closing his eyes and cursing himself silently, Jace turned back to face the hallway and held his breath as all hopes of leaving left his body. _Dammit,_ he thought to himself when his eyes landed on a figure with long, black hair.

Izzy.

"What are you doing over there, Handsome? Come on! Magnus is just about to open presents!" she exclaimed, her heels clacking against the hallway's wooden-floor as she made her way over his where Jace was by the elevator. He sighed silently, resigned, and started to slowly walk towards the door which Izzy had just exited from.

"Alright. I- uh- didn't have to bring a present did I? I didn't really have time to go out and buy one, so…" he trailed off as she grabbed ahold of his arm and started dragging him over to the still-open door at the end of the hall. She giggled and glanced up at him, her eyelashes thick and fluttery as she bit her lip and continued to haul him towards the door.

"That's fine, silly! You can just give him money, like the rest of us! He really doesn't care." She told him, her energy levels seeming to increase as the duo finally reached the door. "Okay, Magnus already started to open presents, so you need to slip some money on top of one of the gifts that are already on the table. Alright? Good." She explained quietly, dramatically dropping her voice as she and Jace walked through the doorway.

Rolling his eyes and sighing, Jace spoke with his normal voice when he responded. "And what if I don't really want to give him money?" he inquired, a sarcastic edge to his voice. Izzy didn't seem to notice, for she barely spared him a glance as she led him into the living room. She thrust her finger in the direction of a relatively large dark-oak table off to the side of the room and lowered her voice to a whisper, leaning towards him as she did so.

"That's the table; right over there. Just set some cash somewhere on the table, and then some back over here. A fifty should do." She told him, her smile sweet but her voice holding a hidden warning underneath. Jace shook his head in exasperation, glared at her through the corner of his eye, and then proceeded to walk over to the table.

Said table was stacked full of presents. Boxes and gift-bags were overflowing the table's surface and some boxes were even placed underneath of it. _These people,_ Jace thought,_ are really going to get themselves killed one of these days. How many presents does one guy need? Like, really? This is going to get old; and very quickly at that. _

He took out his wallet, fished out a twenty -just to get on Izzy's nerves- , and then started back to where Izzy was standing. When he was at her side again, feeling extremely pissed off and wanting to go back up to his apartment, he allowed himself to take in the room that he was standing in at last.

Magnus, in all his sparkly self, was perched royally on top of one of the many leather couches crowded in the living-room. He had a couple of boxes, which were already stripped of wrapping and decorative bows, lying by his feet and was holding another box in his hands. A sparkly, neon-blue party-hat was strapped to his head and a wide smile was stretched across his face, transforming his features into overjoyed ones.

Jace bit his lip and forced himself to remain in the apartment, pushing away the sudden urge that he had to leave. _Well, the urge was always there from the very beginning, but you know…_

"Oh thank you, biscuit! I just_ love_ it! I shall cherish it forever." Magnus exclaimed brightly, causing Jace's attention to snap back to reality. He was already looking at the unusually sparkly man, but his eyes came back into focus at the sound of his voice.

A bright-pink, very expensive-looking watch sat in a pristine box in the palm of his hand. He was giving a side-hug to the person next to him, which took Jace a moment to realize that the person was none other than Clary.

The little red-head that he needed to distance himself from. Great.

"Of course you will, Maggie. I saw you stalking that poor watch for _months_, so I decided to get it for you." Clary said sweetly, a sly glint in her eyes as she did. Jace watched her curiously as she returned the hug and smiled at Magnus from her perch on the chair. Something in her eyes, something he hadn't quite figured out yet, clued him in that there was more to that present than what appeared.

"And, missy, just what do you mean by 'get'? Did you actually _pay_ for this item, or did you 'get' it just like you 'got' all of our cars?" Magnus inquired, amusement seeping into his tone. Clary waved a hand at him playfully as she straightened up from her perch and leaned against the wall behind the chair.

"Just enjoy your gift, Mags." Her tone held a slight warning –as did her eyes as she flickered them from Magnus to Jace and back again- and Magnus appeared to have gotten the hint by the way he smiled to himself and picked up another one of the presents that were pooling around his feet.

Jace narrowed his gaze on the strange behavior between the two and bit his lip in thought. What could they be up to? He didn't know. All that he knew was that something wasn't right about this little 'interaction'. He just didn't know what exactly.

He decided to let it go, for now, and he looked beside him at Izzy. She was grinning like the cat that ate the canary, all teeth and a wicked glint in her eyes, as she watched the 'Birthday Boy' open some of his gifts.

That was one of the things that confounded Jace the most; the fact that there was a whole other table filled to the rim with gifts not even ten feet away from where he was standing, and Magnus was opening another pile by his feet. And that pile was _massive_.

Unwelcome envy simmered under Jace's skin as he watched several other boxes get destroyed by the sparkly man, images of his mother making him a special cake for his many birthdays when he was younger invading his mind.

Those birthdays used to be the only day of the year that he got to get out of almost anything. School? He stayed home and ate ice-cream with his mother. Church –when his mother was feeling especially religious and given that it was a Sunday? He got to play 'sick' all day. He figured that his mother figured that if he wanted to play hookie once a year, that it might as well have been on his birthday.

Dread seeped into his veins as another thought popped up into his jumbled mind. His birthday was actually in a couple of weeks. He clenched his jaw and inhaled a deep breath, pushing away the unwelcome thought for the moment.

Birthdays were always special to Jace, filled with memories of his mother and feelings that made his depressed to even think about. That was the exact reason that he drank himself into a coma on his birthdays. It had been a sort of 'ritual' for the past few years, so he kept it up.

A consistent man is a good man, right? Well, Jace didn't consider himself a good man, but…

"Thank you all so much! I'm so glad all of you came!" Magnus' loud exclamation brought Jace out of his head, back into the real world.

Magnus was standing now, a large pile of ripped giftwrapping and various bright-colored bags littered the ground and tables around him. He had one of his wide smiles plastered on and was ushering for everyone to stand up, if they were seated. Clary was standing up behind Magnus' now deserted chair and had a bag clutched in her hand tightly, as if she was getting ready to leave.

_Oh, hell no_, Jace thought. _She is not going to leave me here. She's the only person in the entire building that I remotely like._ He straightened up and watched warily as the rest of the room stood and started to make their way into another room on the other side of the living-room, most likely the kitchen.

Jace spotted Maia talking quietly with a tall man, though not as tall as Jace, as the duo made their way towards the kitchen, and he remembered her saying that her fiancé or something was going to be here tonight. Looking closer at her now, he noticed something that he hadn't earlier. She looked really familiar, like really familiar. As if, impossible but, he had known her from several years back. He shook his head at that thought. It wasn't possible, he didn't know a Maia. Not even when he was a little kid.

He stayed off to the side of the room, just watching as all of the other people flooded out of the room and into the kitchen.

When everyone was gone, leaving just Jace and Clary surprisingly, he cleared his throat and started to walk back towards the front door. Clary walked over to where he was slowly making his way out and laughed quietly.

"Yeah, we probably want to leave right about now. If we stay any longer, they'll make us try all sorts of different drinks and I'm not really up for a hangover tomorrow." Her voice was low as she slid around his larger form, opening the door quietly when she reached it.

Jace watched her with interest as she ushered him out of the apartment, the sounds of singing coming from the kitchen fading with each step he took. Clary softly shut the door before straightening and smiling up at him as they started walking down the hallway towards the elevators.

"So, what are you doing for the rest of the night? Just chillin', as my brother would say?" she asked playfully, causing an unwelcome sense of curiosity to tug at his lips.

"I'll probably just go watch TV or something. You have a brother?" the last part slipped out without his consent, causing him to bit his lip and look straight ahead as they neared the elevators.

"Yeah. He's a couple of years older than me, so I don't see him around a lot. Y'know, with me being in college and all. He has a really secretive job, too. Something about security for Herondale. Who knows." She explained nonchalantly as Jace hit the button for the elevator with his thumb. He froze when her words registered in his brain and swallowed thickly, telling himself to calm down as to not give himself away.

"Okay, cool. So, you're in college. That must be fun?" he tried to slow down his heartrate as they both stepped into the elevator, which had opened immediately after he pushed the button. Clary shrugged and slid a small smile his way.

"Nope. Not at all. It might have something to do with the fact that my dad is forcing me to go, I don't really know. I wouldn't have gone at all, if it were up to me though." Sadness and longing tinged her expression, causing Jace to frown and look away.

He reminded himself that he needed to stay away from the small red-head, for her own sake if not all of her friends. Especially now, though, with her brother supposedly working for Jace's father. He really needed to distance himself, and fast.

"It can't be that bad." Was all he said on the matter, hoping that she would get the hint and drop the subject.

She didn't.

"It is. I could be halfway across the world right now, painting in Europe, but I'm stuck here. It sucks." She leaned against one of the walls of the elevator and sighed. Jace, though, felt no sympathy for her at all. In fact, he felt envy instead.

Envy that he never got to –and most likely never would- go to college. He actually had plans to go; had a scholarship and everything. He remembered his mother laughing and crying at the same time when he got the letter. Of course, the scholarship had to be put to the side for a couple of years. He was only a Sophomore when he received it, but the college said that they'd wait until he graduated to actually put it to use. Jace had no idea how that worked, but he was really excited for it either way.

And now he would never get to have that experience._ His_ life sucked, if anything.

He was feeling a lot of emotions that he hadn't felt for several years, he noted as he focused on the number ticking by until they reached their floor. He needed to stop this now, end it right here in the elevator.

Turning his eyes down to Clary when the numbers finally reached their floor, he nodded and straightened up as he waited for the doors to open. "Well, that sucks. For you." The doors '_dinged' _open. "I have to go now, so… yeah. Bye." And with that, and a pathetic salute, he raced out of the metal box and towards his apartment down the hall.

The poor girl probably had no idea as of what to make of Jace as he practically ran away from her, but he couldn't care about that right now. He just needed to get away, and get away fast.

"Jace, wait!" Clary shouted after him, her footsteps thudding against the hardwood floors as she chased after him. Sadly for her though, he already had his door open and was mostly inside of his apartment.

"I'll see you… later, Clary. Okay? I've got to go." He said through the small crack in the door, before closing it and dead-bolting it shut. A minute passed, then two. Finally, he heard a small, resigned sigh and retreating footsteps down the hall.

Slumping against the door and running a hand through his hair tiredly before letting it run down his face, Jace let out a tired sigh and closed his eyes.

He hated -absolutely_ loathed_- that fact that he had to potentially hurt Clary's feelings. She was too sweet, too sweet for a monster like him, and he knew it. He would chew her up and spit her out onto the dirt floor before she even knew what hit her, and that was the problem.

He couldn't hurt Clary. Not ever.

With his eyes closed now, though, he could imagine a life before everything went to hell in a hand-basket. Where he and Clary had met at a restaurant, or something, and they were actually happy together. They could've had an apartment together, and maybe a relationship, too.

It would be perfect. Like all dreams were.

That was what snapped Jace out of it, though. They were just dreams, imaginary.

There was no happy life with Clary for him.

There was no happy _ending_ for him, and he knew it.

He was going down, way down, and he refused to bring Clary along with him.

She deserved so much better, so much more than he could ever give her.

With that realization sinking into his bones and squeezing his chest tighter and tighter until he felt short of breath, Jace opened his eyes, pushed off of the door, and started for his room. Once there, he flopped down onto the bed and buried his face into one of his pillows.

He needed to get his head on straight. No more fraternizing with Clary, or anyone else for that matter. No more 'small-talk'. No more anything, except for readying himself for his plan.

That was all he could think of, all that he could _afford_ to think of. The plan.

**OMG! Things are heating up! **

**So sorry about disappearing on you guys for over a month. A whole month! Things have been crazy, as am I, and I have had absolutely no time to write, or blog, or anything like that. Again, so sorry.**

**I have decided to do something new this year. So, without further ado, I am going to start adding a new book that I have found in each of my A/Ns. I read a lot, so I hope that I can help you people find new books to read. I guess? I don't really know! That's the fun part.**

**I shall call it TWB –this week's book- and I will tell you right now, I guess.**

**TWB:**

_**The Darkest Powers series by Kelly Armstrong**_

**I love this series and all of that creepy stuff, so if you want a new series to check out, check it out. Maybe?**

**It's basically about a teenage necromancer and werewolves… more awesome things like that. Yeah… :D**

**Okay, I'm done. Continue on with life, ta-ta.**

**Thanks for telling me your thoughts on my story and for those of you who have stayed with me and who have been really patient with me so far. :D**

**Review and Follow**


	7. Chapter 6

"Jace! Hey, wait up a minute!" she called out to him as he dashed towards the elevator. His boots squeaked as he turned the corner that lead to the alcove in which the elevators were located in, his mind whirling as he tried to think up a way to avoid the inevitable.

Jace had just walked in the large, glass doors of his apartment building after a short walk back from the bookstore, when he had spotted Clary talking to Izzy at the front-desk. Apparently Clary and her friends all had jobs in the building, which got them out of paying rent every month, so Jace wasn't all that surprised to find the two of them working the lobby. In fact, if anything, he was annoyed that he would have to walk past them in order to make it to the elevators safely.

He had been avoiding Clary –and all her friends except for Maia because he worked for her- for the past week and a half, and it had turned out well so far. Clary had day-classes at the local college and he manned the bookstore for Maia all day –most days-, so avoiding the tiny red-head proved to be not that difficult. She and several of the other inhabitants of the building had come knocking on his apartment door various times throughout the week, but they all ended up leaving after realizing that he wasn't going to answer the door. It wasn't that he wasn't there or anything like that, he was. He had been near the door on most of the occasions, too; either sitting in the living-room or working on his laptop in the kitchen.

He just simply ignored all of their knocks and pleas for him to open the door.

He knew that he was being extremely rude –if not borderline hostile- but couldn't find it in himself to care.

Jace was doing what had to be done. And if he had to make Clary completely hate him by ignoring and being an overall dick to her, he would. She just couldn't –he wouldn't allow her to- get mixed up in his mess.

Period.

"Jace! Come on, why are you ignoring me?" he sweet voice almost made his long strides towards his escape falter, but he pushed on through the temptation. Finally reaching the elevator, he quickly slammed his thumb into the 'UP' button and ran a hand through his hair as he waited for the doors to slide open.

"Come on, come on, come on." He whispered under his breath as he heard footsteps gaining distance across the marble flooring and nearing the alcove where he was currently hiding in, a chant resembling that of a desperate prayer.

Why wouldn't the damned elevator cooperate?! He needed to get out of there before Clary found him. It was almost like a demented game of hide-and-seek. The only problem was, though, that a lot more than winning or losing was at stake.

He had to continue to avoid Clary, and that would be really hard for him if she started asking him questions. Questions like '_Why have you been avoiding me?_', or '_Did I do something wrong?_'.

No, that would be bad. Especially because Jace had found that he had a soft spot for the red-head. He was hesitant to possibly hurt her feelings, so he ended up arguing with himself internally more often than not.

"Hey!" a soft, yet firm voice exclaimed to his right at the end of the small hallway that led back out into the lobby. The doors to the elevator opened –_finally_- and Jace only allowed his eyes to flicker over in the direction of the voice briefly as he stepped onto the elevator.

Clary looked flustered, to put it simply. Her cheeks had a slight angry flush and her eyes were sharp, resembling those of fresh cut emeralds. She charged forward towards the now-closing elevators –because Jace had pressed the button almost directly after he stepped onto the thing- and had set her mouth into a tight line. To anyone other than Jace, she would've appeared angry, if not a little agitated.

Because this was Jace though, and because he was trained to read people's emotions, he saw the concern and hurt plain on her face as she dashed towards the elevator's almost-closed doors.

He avoided her gaze and tilted his head back so that he was staring up at the panels of the ceiling in the elevator. His neck kinked up slightly from the extreme angle he had it tilted, but he forced himself to keep his eyes away from Clary.

Who knew what he'd do if he had actually taken time to analyze her expression, other than what was shown on the surface already. Sure, she looked hurt and angry and confused that he wasn't talking to her, but she was probably feeling a whole hell of a lot more than what he had briefly interpreted.

"What did I do-?" she started to ask, but the doors slid shut completely before she could finish. It didn't matter, though. Jace already knew what she was going to ask.

He just didn't want to see her face when he was finally forced to reply.

He would have to eventually make up an excuse about how he was just being polite for the first few days that Clary and the group knew him, and then he would most likely be taken down as an asshole in their books and they would leave him alone. One could only _hope_ that they'd leave him alone after that had happened…

If not, he would have to do things that he certainly did not want to do.

Jace leaned against the side of the metal box, bringing his head down from its extensive tilt and ducking his chin to his chest.

To tell the truth, he was exhausted. He had worked since the early hours of the morning at the bookstore –though all he really had to do was man the front-counter and maybe offer help to customers if they needed it- and he just wanted to go to bed. His head was killing him and he needed Aspirin. A.S.A.P. And his entire being was just basically overall miserable.

He hated, _loathed_, being intentionally hateful towards Clary. It surprised him just how much it was affecting him, considering that he had done things far worse than just ignoring one of his neighbors in his life. He should've been able to handle this small, simple task without hating himself too much more than he already did.

That was the thing, though. He hated himself, and it was just getting_ worse_ with every single action that he took.

Had Jace been a normal teenager –though not that he was really still considered one anymore- he would've gotten diagnosed with severe depression and a handful of other mental illnesses -maybe PTSD- that only years of therapy and pill-popping could fix.

He didn't really know.

All that he did know, what he was 100% sure of, was that he needed to get his shit together. And quick.

He needed to focus on his plan. Everything was going to fall into place in less than three months now, and he was feeling sad and miserable not even halfway in.

Although Jace had many, many other reasons that were probably playing a big part in his current mood, he knew that there was only really _one _reason behind it all.

His birthday was coming up. And it terrified him, as it did every year.

It was the only day a year that he allowed himself to feel. To –god help him- cry. To mourn his lost life. It was really the only day that he had an excuse to let his guard down and allow himself to be vulnerable for more than five minutes in the shower.

And that vulnerability, that weakness, scared the absolute shit out of him.

There was a reason that he drank himself into a coma once a year, and that day of drinking was nearing faster than he would have liked.

The elevator's doors slid open, stopping Jace's thought from spiraling any farther downward than they already had. He stepped off of the metal box and started making his way down the hallway towards his door.

Once he was inside of his apartment once more, he dead-bolted the door and headed straight for the shower. He needed to calm himself down and unwind before he gave himself an even bigger migraine than he already had.

Shoving the door to his bathroom closed with the toe of his boot –which he had yet to take off-, he marched over to the shower and turned the knob onto the hottest temperature possible. Jace braced his palms against the cool marble countertop by the sink and opened the cabinet in search of some much needed painkillers. When he managed to get the small bottle of Aspirin out and unscrewed the lid, he didn't hesitate to pop two of those suckers in his mouth. He stuck his head under the faucet of the sink, taking a large mouthful of water from the spout, and then he forced the pills down his throat.

Taking pills was never fun, but he held onto the relief that he knew would come soon after he was out of the shower.

Stripping himself of his clothing –boots included- he stepped under the scalding hot water of the shower and willed his mind to relax.

He was really stressing himself out over nothing, and he needed a break. All that he had done was stress and plan for months, and it was all finally catching up to him.

He needed peace, if just for a little while.

Leaning his head against the cool tiles of the shower and counting slowly down from ten in his head, he finally forced himself to straighten up and finish his shower so that he could finally go to bed. It didn't matter if it was still several hours away from bedtime –or even nighttime in general- he just wanted to go to sleep.

And maybe never wake up, but that was a little too much to hope for.

Feeling the effects of the Aspirin starting to kick in, he hummed to himself under his breath as he felt the pain in his head start to ease up.

Peace was on its way. Yes, it was.

* * *

><p>Jace pulled his old, leather jacket up over his shoulders with a flap of the worn material. He rolled his shoulders –taking in the familiar feel of the heavy leather- and blew out a breath, before stuffing his wallet into his pocket along with his keys and phone. With one final farewell glance back at his apartment, which was starting to feel like home to him, he hesitantly pulled open his front door and stepped out into the hallway.<p>

The sun was just barely up, the large windows on either side of the hall casting shadowy illuminations of the city-lights off in the distance onto the hardwood floors beneath his feet. Jace stole a weary glance down the hallway on either side, making sure that neither Clary nor one of the other inhabitants of the apartment building was out and about, before quickly making his way towards the elevator.

When he was safely inside of the moving metal box, he fiddled with the hem of his T-shirt and whistled under his breath a nameless tune. He was trying to calm himself down, forcing himself to think of every possible situation that could happen when he stepped foot out into the lobby.

Even though it was early, _way_ too early for anybody sane to be awake, Jace was almost positive that he would get bombarded with questions when either Clary or one of her friends spotted him. He was sure of it.

She didn't come off as the type of girl to gossip to her friends, but she didn't really need to tell Izzy or Maia that he was being a jackass to her. He was being a major douche-canoe to everyone, and he knew it.

Did he feel necessarily bad about it? No.

Well, if he was being an asshole to everyone but Clary…

With the loud '_ding_' of the elevator, Jace straightened up and waltzed out of the metal box. He inhaled a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair as he rounded the corner that lead to the lobby from the small alcove where the elevators were located. Taking a quick glance at the front-counter –and taking note that it was, luckily, momentarily vacant- he dashed towards the front-doors.

He was lucky, this time.

So why didn't Fate decide to come back and kick his ass. Again.

"_Jace Wayland_! What did you do to Clary?"

Oh shit. He was screwed. _Dammit Izzy._

"Just where in the hell do you think you're going?" the girl had some sass, he had to give her that much. Unsurprisingly though, it only made his want to put his fist through a concrete wall.

Slowly turning on his heel, hesitantly, he came face to face with a very pissed-off raven-head. "Huh?" was his half-assed response. That only seemed to anger her further.

"'_Huh?'_ That's all you have to say for yourself? '_Huh?_'" she asked incredulously, a dark scowl set on her face. She had on a short, sparkly skirt and an annoyingly pink sweater on top of it. Her whole presence seemed to scream '_I'm in college and I still act like a preteen'._

Safe to say, it annoyed the hell out of Jace, and the urge to send his fists flying was suddenly harder to keep at bay.

He just shrugged in reply, not feeling up to doing anything right at that moment.

"God-! Why can't you just -Ugh!- I don't know-!" Izzy exclaimed, her voice splotchy and infuriated.

Jace stared at her for a long moment, before turning back around to face the doors. He took a step towards them, his escape clear in his mind, but a hand descended down onto his shoulder before he got the chance. His entire being went stiff as a rod, his hands curling into fists.

Without a moment of hesitation he spun around, a much slighter wrist gripped in his hand. His eyes were hard, gold daggers as he glared down threateningly at the smaller girl before him.

"W-what are you doing?" she asked unsurely, a slight waver to her voice replacing the once angry tone. Jace, though, didn't seem to hear her. His grip on her wrist tightened and he watched with stony, cruel eyes as she tried to pull away from him. To no avail, though. His hold was firm as steel, and he showed no signs of letting it up anytime soon either.

That is, until she whimpered.

That seemed to knock him out of whatever trance he was in, and he let go of her and stepped back as if she had burned him. He paled until he resembled that of a ghost and sucked in a rattling breath with the realization of what he had just done.

His hands started trembling and he stuffed them deep into the pockets of his jacket, curling his hands into fists. He didn't mean to do that, he didn't _want_ to do that. He took in another slow breath and watched with wary eyes as Izzy rubbed her wrist with one hand, fearful eyes staring up at him as she hastily took a few steps away from him.

"W-what-," she broke off, her eyes flickering around the lobby, most likely checking to see if anybody else witnessed what had just happened. Thankfully for Jace, though, the lobby was still as empty as it was when he first stepped off of the elevator. "What was _that_?" her voice was quiet, her eyes wide and scared.

Jace swallowed thickly and stumbled back a step, wrenching one of his hands from his pocket and reaching blindly behind him for the door-handle. "I-I didn't mean- I mean- I didn't-," his words escaped his in gasps, panic swelling up within the cavity of his chest, making breathing almost impossible. Almost.

The look in Izzy's eyes faded slightly, the fear draining out in favor of worry, and she stepped forward hesitantly with her hand outstretched, as if to not frighten him any further than he already appeared to be. "Jace-," she started, only to have him shake his head sharply at her and wretch open the door behind him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His voice was barely above a whisper, his breath coming out in shattered gasps as he stumbled backwards through the now-open doorway. Her brows furrowed in confusion, worry plan in the lines forming on her forehead, and she opened her mouth to protest his leaving, but never got the chance.

Jace just shook his head again, and with Izzy's protest cut off by the door closing behind him, he turned. And then he fled.

His boots slapped against the sidewalk as he sprinted away from the building, away from Izzy. Away from his mistakes.

He didn't know exactly where he was when his feet halted their movements and he dropped down to his knees on the ground, but he didn't really care, either.

Jace's entire body was trembling something fierce and he was still struggling to breath, this time caused by a mixture of exhaustion from running and the panic that still clawed at his chest. Running had helped him calm himself down somewhat, to the point where he wouldn't break down sobbing randomly in the middle of the street, but the shaky feeling of dread still lingered behind.

He dropped his head into his hands, his elbows falling to his thighs, and he sat there for who knows how long, just trying to slow his breathing down some along with the panic starting to grow back up. He pushed everything away for a moment, his only focus on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as it slowed.

He hadn't meant to grab Izzy like that. He hadn't meant to lose control; it was just him acting on impulse, his natural reaction to being touched. He didn't like being touched, he hasn't for several years. The only person that he would probably allow to freely touch him was his mother, and that was if she still loved him. If she still thought of him as her son and not as the monster that he'd become.

Because that was what he was now; a monster.

He knew it, had accepted the fact ten times over. And yet it still bothered him that that thing, that_ murderer_, was who he had become.

His mind faintly registered that he hadn't reacted as he did with Izzy when Clary had touched him, but he couldn't focus on that fact right that very second. He had more important matters at hand.

Raising his head from his hands and turning his face up to the sky, he allowed his hands to lay palms up in his thighs as he took in his surroundings.

He had run into a park; well, a small patch of grass on the outskirts of town. He hadn't even noticed the dampness seeping through his jeans, but he did now because his knees were wet and cold in the damp grass. The sun was now rising up above the cityscape in the distance, casting a yellow hue over the entire city and basking it in morning light.

Jace tilted his head up further, his neck back just a little bit more. As his breathing slowed and his heart calmed, he closed his eyes and allowed the sun to warm his face. It felt nice and warm and peaceful, everything that he was not.

Morning had fully come.

* * *

><p><strong>And there it is, folks.<strong>

**TWB:**

_**The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin**_

**I really like this book, and it's one of my favorite classic-y books.**

**Cassandra Clare owns her stuff, I own mine.**

**Review&Follow.**


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